WTF, LADY GAGA.
WTF.
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No comments on
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planning.
planning for england is turning out to be a little more complicated than i thought, but excitement and magic are in the air for me and in less than 20 days, i’ll be off in some foreign (yet familiar) land having some sort of time of my life. kind of looking forward to wreaking havoc in all parts of england.
this time brother’s going with me; i’ll finally have some company in the airport and not have to use playing cards as a method of making friends with strangers (i.e. matthew, eva, ebida). i think i’ll end up making friends with strangers anyways; i’m particularly fond of small encounters in public places.
i still need to find places to stay for the last two weeks of august though. there are some tentative plans with lily and sam, but i’ve been much too lazy to make anything actually concrete. as of yet, i’m just trusting the great and mighty powers that be to make everything work out in the end (as it so often does); maybe i’ll make new friends at new iggy who’ll want to bring me home; that or i can stay in a youth hostel or something (though i dread what the movies have shown me).
also, still need to grab an adapter for my camera charger; i plan on doing some hardcore touring. and i’m going to be in the photos. i don’t understand people who take photos of pretty buildings and landmarks and stuff but aren’t in them themselves. anybody can take a pretty picture. i need something to show i experienced it.
i feel a mysticism hanging about; august is going to be a good month; i’ll experience sun rays and rainfall in a foreign country; taste the minds of foreign people; i’ll be exotic and intriguing and mysterious all in one; and i’ll love it.
i’ll soak it up, into every pore of my body, and every day will be something new; constant constant constant change; fast-paced; exciting; beautiful, wonderful; and summer summer summer.
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THIS IS EFFING HILARIOUS.
EVERYBODY WATCH IT.
“WE’RE BESTIES WITH TESTES."
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
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“Yet, when the weather turned and the sun filtered into even her basement windows, when the sunbeams were laden with spring dust and the old tin ashtrays began to stink of a winter of nicotine and contemplation, the flaws in her plodding private world were made public, even to her, for although she loved old shabby things, things that had already been loved and suffered, objects with a past, when she saw that her arms were slug-pale and her fingerprints grained with old, old ink, that the detritus with which she bedizened her bulletin boards was curled and valueless, when she found that her eyes would no longer focus in the light, she was always ashamed, for the image of the Good Life long ago stamped on her soul was quite different from this, and she suffered in contrast.”
– ‘Bear’ by Marian Engel
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baby.
two of my best friends and i have this plan to physically manifest our unbreakable friendship via the birth of a child.
i would donate some sperm while yodit donates her egg and elaha would be the surrogate mother.
that way, the resulting child would be all of ours.
it would forever solidify our trinity.
but we haven’t come up with a name for him/her/it yet.
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so i’m apparently watching lady gaga live tomorrow at the sky dome.
kind of exciting.
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then i watched ‘the kids are alright’ with thadea and nicky and met up with shannon afterwards to go pool-hopping at 1 am.
got home at 4 am.
BUSY DAY.
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met up with yodit to help her job-hunt and elaha eventually showed up.
we decided to have some good old fashion fun with a pole.
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to:
honestly, sometimes i don’t know why i put up with you.
you actually embarrass me when we’re out in public. look at the people around you when you start randomly breaking out into song. do they look pleased? do they look like they’re enjoying it? maybe you just translate their expressions of horror and pain as ones of awe and wonder; you do have a tendency to be detached from reality.
i mean, i’m not saying you should worry about how other people think of you; feel absolutely free to be yourself. just don’t expect me to stick around, because your nonstop singing puts me in physical pain. i wouldn’t mind so much if you didn’t do it so often or for such long periods of time. and is my blatant look of boredom and habit of miraculously finding someone to text whenever you burst into song not enough of a hint? how do you think i feel when you go off on one of these musical escapades? excited?
when will you learn that i’m never actually paying attention.
or maybe you realize this and just don’t care.
it’s just one big ego boost for you. you do it for yourself; to validate yourself.
and please stop asking me to agree with you on absolutely everything; we are different people with different opinions (and yours aren’t always right, no matter what you may believe).
and please stop yelling at me in public for no good reason in an attempt to make everyone around us think you’re some kind of better than me.
i’m tired of your complexes.
leave me alone.